when my little brother spent the night he threw the pillows and blankets on the floor
before he left when I put them back on the couch the room felt hollow so I threw them back
on the floor
some chasms are wider than others
this city is large and so are the windows exploding rainbow electric light onto the pale gray
of the sheets
draped across the gap left in your absence
not a gulf anymore but a divot in the street the hill by your house is not so steep anymore and
I can see the bottom top and middle all at once
the sun is leaking through the wide net I cast to outrun your heart still beating in spite of it all
i get attached to everything and everyone that has ever happened to me but at this moment i
can’t bring myself to feel past my toes in the sheets softer at 6 am than the night before
do you still shop at the same stores and buy the same shampoo you yelled at me for wasting
my brother’s voice is in this house now instead
remember he’s turning 20 soon he never liked you and there are parts of my childhood I do
and do not miss but you are there and he is here
flowers are growing in the front yard out the window in the light you tried to swallow down and
extinguish your body will be 22 this year your mind (i’m unsure)
i really should change the sheets.
Lauren Kells is a graduate of Lipscomb University with an English major. She presented her poetry collection, “same ball of light” at Sigma Tau Delta’s 2023 International Conference and her work has been published in Periphery Art and Literary Magazine and Applause Journal and is forthcoming in The Passionfruit Review.
originally published in Uppagus Journal, Issue 62
